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Gauging the operas that will work in Iford’s miniscule space is an art in itself. In this instance, the natural affinity between the Italianate setting and Stravinsky’s neo-Classical score was apparent; moreover, the clarity with which the vocal and instrumental lines were defined was often revelatory. The conductor Oliver Gooch certainly revealed himself as a Stravinsky interpreter of real insight.

The respect accorded both William Hogarth, whose paintings first inspired Stravinsky, and the librettist WH Auden in his centenary year was also significant. The director Jeff Clarke and his clever designer Gabriella Csanyi-Wills managed to retain much of the spirit and feel of the 18th century whilst incorporating elements of the 1950s (The Rake’s Progress was first performed in 1951) as well as of the present. Periodic posturing for digital and video cameras offered a modern equivalent of Hogarth; Bedlam became a cybercafé, where the zombie-like escape into virtual reality. This was an uncomfortably telling parallel, fulfilling the essential requirement that a morality tale should pertain to any and every era.

Yet it was Clarke’s reflection of the Jungian slant of Auden’s libretto (written with Chester Kallman) that brought such a strong psychological truth to this production. Instead of a Shadow whose presence is satanic and physically overbearing, Daniel Grice matched Peter Wilman’s Tom in height and build; by their being dressed identically, the idea of an internal demon was forcefully suggested.

Grice proved himself to be a singer of considerable stature, implying the insinuating charms of Nick as well as his darkly sinister power most convincingly. Wilman may not have been in the same league as Grice in what is anyway a hugely taxing role, but he touchingly conveyed Tom’s gullibility and, even as his money disappeared, sympathy accrued steadily thanks to the deeply genuine expressions of his love for Anne. By the time it was translated into Adonis’s love for Venus, it was heart-rending. Revecca van den Berg’s Anne Truelove was impressive; always in control and movingly sung. Louise Crane’s Mother Goose was strong, carrying the pantomime flamboyance of the character while also suggesting that this tart still has a beating heart. Deborah Hawksley’s Baba was extremely gutsy too and, since Iford operates with a skeleton staff, the fervour with which Crane and Hawkesley threw themselves into the multitude of other roles with the ensemble only added to the enjoyment of the evening.

The way in which, in the blink of an eye, the Iford cloiser’s central well became, among other things a carriage and then the basis of the bread-machine was amazing. But nothing outdid the frisson of excitement of the auction scene, with bids seeming to come from behind our shoulders and with the enthusiasm of Nicholas Smith’s auctioneer carrying a real charge. Wraparound sound doesn’t come better than this. Gooch’s handling both of his singers and players was admirable. The chamber-style instrumental line-up, with just one stringed instrument per part, risked being horribly exposed; instead it brought intimacy and transparency to the music. In this context, what is sometimes felt as the cloying self-consciousness of Stravinsky in neo-Classical mode took on an altogether more credible dimension.